Deadly American Beauty (St. Martin's True Crime Library)

by John Glatt

  “He wasn’t actually our boss yet, but he was going to be,” said toxicologist Catherine Hamm. “I think we all treated him that way.”

  Within a few days of his arrival, Kristin Rossum was going out of her way to be friendly, spending as much time with her future boss as she could. And there appeared to be an instant attraction between the two.

  “They seemed to hit it off, really, right from the beginning,” said Hamm. “It seemed pretty quick.”

  Dr. Robertson loved the perfect year-round San Diego climate, which resembled his native Australia, and soon found a new set of friends. He became a regular at several Australian bars, joining the San Diego Lions Australian football team as a backliner. Most weekends he would play league games, before joining the other players at the bar for a celebratory night out.

  When his visa finally came through at the beginning of March, he officially became forensic laboratory manager, taking over the everyday running of the toxicology lab.

  His new office had a perfect view of Kristin Rossum’s desk, and over the next few weeks, Kristin seemed to be in there incessantly, which did not go unnoticed by their fellow workers.

  “We hit it off right off the bat,” Kristin would later testify. “We were both in marriages we weren’t happy with. We gravitated toward one another.”

  In early April, they both attended a going-away party for a toxicologist named Nadia Giorgi at the 94th Aero Squadron Restaurant in San Diego. It was the first time that Kristin and Robertson had met socially outside work, and he invited her out.

  The following week they secretly sneaked off for lunch together, and soon they started meeting up after work and whenever they could. But their unusually close employee-boss relationship created resentment among the other toxicologists, who felt that Kristin was getting preferential treatment.

  “There was a lot of discussion,” said Cathy Hamm. “I think people, myself definitely, were unhappy. We felt that most of his attention was directed towards her and whatever projects she was doing.”

  One night James Fogacci, a toxicologist who had been at the ME’s office for twenty-five years, was closing up the office when he discovered Dr. Robertson and Rossum in a romantic clinch at the back of the laboratory. As soon as they saw him, they moved away from one another, looking embarrassed.

  “I had the feeling that I surprised them,” remembered Fogacci, now retired. “[Later] I mentioned to him that it was not a good idea to have an association with another employee.”

  When Fogacci warned Robertson that previous secret affairs in the ME’s office had led to written warnings, the forensic laboratory manager looked blank and walked out without saying a word.

  Around that time, Melissa Prager lunched with Kristin in San Diego, gettting the impression that her friend’s marriage was under strain. Prager, now living in San Francisco, had agreed to meet Kristin at the Miracles Café in North County, and was surprised when Greg turned up, as it was just supposed to be the two of them.

  “I was eager to see [Kristin] and spend some time with her alone,” said Prager. “I wondered why Greg came along.”

  Since their strained first meeting a few years earlier, Prager had concluded that Greg might be shy, and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. During lunch, the women discussed taking a trip together to New York later that year, but Prager sensed that Greg did not approve.

  “[He was] hinting at the fact she needed to check with him first,” Prager said, adding that he appeared overprotective.

  Throughout April, Kristin and Dr. Robertson spent more and more time together. They appeared infatuated with each other, discussing the most intimate parts of their lives and a possible future together.

  One day Kristin confessed that she had been addicted to crystal methamphetamine, swearing it was all in the past. Her boss was understanding, saying he did not approve of drugs and that he did not want her to have anything to do with them.

  So far the relationship had not been consummated. So Dr. Robertson invited Kristin to accompany him to the May conference of the California Association of Toxicologists (CAT) in Anaheim, which was being organized by his friend Dr. Daniel Anderson. She agreed to come with him. But when she told Greg she was going, he was most upset.

  A couple of weeks later, Kristin and Greg went on a hiking trip to the Grand Canyon with her youngest brother Pierce. During the drive up there, they argued about her attending the weekend conference.

  “Greg said, ‘I don’t leave you, don’t leave me,’ ” Pierce would later testify. “They got into an argument. She wanted to go to the conference.”

  Later, Kristin would admit that Greg “gave me a lot of problems” about it, explaining that she went anyway as “I thought it was important.”

  On Friday, May 5, Dr. Robertson led a group of his toxicologists, including Kristin, Cathy Hamm and Donald Lowe, to the CAT conference. Kristin wanted to make a good impression, but she was also careful to keep her distance from her boss to avoid any further office gossip.

  Kristin watched proudly as Robertson addressed the Saturday afternoon conference with a paper entitled: “Why All the Rave? Basic Pharmacology of Rave Drugs.”

  Later that night, Doctors Robertson and Anderson took Kristin and a group of toxicologists out drinking. Afterwards, back at their hotel, Kristin Rossum and Michael Robertson made love for the first time, and decided that they had a future together. They were each other’s destiny.

  Chapter 10

  Destiny

  After the Anaheim CAT conference, Rossum and Robertson’s relationship moved fast, going from a fling into a passionate love affair within days. On May 12, Kristin gave Robertson an assortment of romantic gifts, declaring her love for him. It included a picture of her as a 13-year-old dancing The Nutcracker and five books of her favorite poems, including the “Desiderata.”

  “Michael, this is a beautiful little book I was given as a little girl,” she wrote on the fly-cover. “It brought me comfort during difficult times. I love you with all my heart and all that I hope to be.”

  On another book of poems, Kristin toasted the beginning of their new life together, and she dedicated a third to “My love, with heartfelt adoration.”

  Being in love had apparently also inspired Kristin to sign up for ballet lessons at a local school. Already the lovers planned to attend the upcoming Milwaukee SOFT conference in October, where they would co-present a paper called “Death by Strychnine.”

  Most mornings, Dr. Robertson would arrive at work with a single rose and present it to Kristin, who would place it in her desk. At noon they would furtively sneak out for lunches together, causing even more gossip and giggles when they returned to the office within minutes of each other, freshly showered.

  On May 15 came the first in a long series of passionate e-mails between the two.

  “Hi there,” wrote Kristin. “Thinking of you ... Love You....K.”

  The following morning, from her desk just a few feet away from Dr. Robertson’s office, Kristin wrote: “The deepest love is being able to let down all barriers and give yourself to another who has done the same. This is what I feel for you.”

  An hour later, her boss replied, writing: “You’re a beaytiful [sic] person and an inspiration to me. I want nothing more than to give my all to you. My life, my love, my world ...”

  Two days later, Robertson e-mailed Kristin at lunch time, saying he loved her and that was all he wanted to say. Kristin immediately replied that those were “the most precious three words” he could ever say to her. Later that afternoon she wished him a “lovely evening of sailing,” adding: “I’ll be thinking of you and all the future has to offer. I can’t wait for it to begin.”

  But Kristin, the masterful dissembler, was simultaneously sending e-mails to Greg. In one she declared that she loved him “more than anything in the world,” asking why he didn’t e-mail her more often. Twenty minutes later, she e-mailed Dr. Robertson to tell him she wanted to spend the rest of her life with
him.

  On Thursday morning, Kristin e-mailed her brother Brent at their parents’ house, saying she needed to talk to him, as she was so unhappy with Greg. She wrote of the deep misgivings she’d had before they got married eleven months earlier, saying she now needed a true life companion.

  She accused her parents of pushing her into the marriage, because she hadn’t wanted to let them down after they had invested so much “time and money.”

  “Well here I am a year later,” she wrote. “And looking back I wish I hadn’t gone through with it. I just haven’t been happy.”

  She went on to call Greg unsupportive, saying she did not want to spend the rest of her life with the wrong person. The “most significant reason” to remain in the marriage, she told her brother, was not to disappoint their parents.

  “Yuck,” she ended. “I feel so torn apart inside.”

  That evening, Dr. Robertson was Kristin’s date for her pre-graduation SDSU Chemistry Department picnic, where they danced together. At 7:52 a.m. the next morning, he told her about his sweet dreams, featuring her “smiles,” “dancing” and “laughing.” “Maybe soon I can put on a too-too [sic] and show you how it should be done,” he joked. “Can’t wait for lunch.”

  And there was also a concerned reply from her brother Brent, saying he’d had no idea her marriage was so rocky, promising to support her 100 percent in whatever she decided to do.

  Then, just before leaving for the weekend, Kristin e-mailed Robertson.

  “You mean so much to me,” she told him, promising that she’d be thinking about him over the weekend.

  But early Sunday morning, he e-mailed her again from a supermarket on the way to an Australian football game.

  “As of 9:00 a.m.,” he wrote, “my missing you has been officially upgraded to ‘intensely,’ soon to move to ‘unbearably.’ ”

  The following week Robertson and Rossum threw caution to the wind, as their affair became increasingly obvious to everyone at the ME’s office. Acting like two teenagers in the first throes of love, they became fodder for even more gossip at the water cooler.

  Oblivious to how much attention they were creating, they spent much of their working days writing ever more passionate e-mails to one another. Kristin said she wanted to leave Greg and move to Australia to marry Robertson. And Robertson sought advice from friends about whether to leave Nicole for Kristin.

  “I along with everyone have spent some time now getting used to the concept of ‘Michael and Nicole,’ ” replied his friend Nick, in an e-mail which Robertson immediately forwarded to Kristin. Expressing doubts about the prospects for a stable future for Michael and Kristin, Nick observed: “It’s sort of harsh, but being divorced from Nicole would already suggest that your perception on marriage and relationships is somewhat unreliable and this of course would also apply to Kristin, as it seems that she is currently also married.”

  On Tuesday morning, Kristin visited her boss’s apartment. Back at the office, Robertson thanked her for helping him experience “some of the most wonderful and intense feelings” of his life. He signed off with some “cyber-hugs ’n kisses.”

  Kristin replied that “this morning was just a little peek into what we have to look forward to,” thanking him for the “incredible feelings” he’d stirred up in her. She then said she was certain she wanted to spend the rest of her life by his side.

  By Thursday the rampant rumors of their affair had reached the ears of Robertson’s immediate boss, Lloyd Amborn, who had retired from the U.S. Navy after thirty years’ service and was now the Operations Administrator for the ME’s office. Concerned, Amborn summoned his forensic laboratory manager into his office.

  “I spoke to him about reports that were reaching me that there might be an improper relationship between him and Kristin Rossum,” Amborn would later testify. “I told him we could not have such a relationship in the senior-subordinate chain of command, and it would be deleterious to the morale of that division.”

  Dr. Robertson absolutely denied there was anything between him and Kristin, and with no proof, there was little Amborn could do.

  Straight after leaving Amborn’s office, Robertson warned Kristin in an e-mail entitled, “Read Now Babe.”

  “Hey it’s a little after noon and Lloyd just got hold of me re- ‘our conduct.” ’

  He warned her to expect to be called in to explain that afternoon, saying Amborn had no definite proof beyond rumors.

  “He sounds like he can be quite stern,” warned Dr. Robertson. “Will fill you in on my conversation later.”

  Then he told Kristin to delete all his e-mails after she read them, warning “any snoop” can check her in-box and it would “not be well-received.”

  Later that afternoon, Robertson was there in Lloyd Amborn’ office when Rossum was summoned. Carefully choosing his words, Amborn counseled her not to be in “such close physical proximity” to her boss, as it made other workers uncomfortable. He never directly asked her if they were having an illicit relationship, and she never volunteered it.

  Just before leaving work that day, Dr. Robertson wrote Kristin that “meeting and falling in love with you” was the high point of his life, and was something he would “cherish” forever.

  On Sunday, May 28, 2000, Kristin officially graduated summa cum laude, and was awarded the honor of Outstanding Graduate in the 120-strong Chemistry Department. Her distinction meant that she had at least a 3.8 average on a 4.0 scale.

  A month earlier, SDSU had written Kristin to invite her to the special ceremony they would be holding for a select number of the best honors graduates.

  “Dear Kristin Margrethe,” it began. “San Diego State University has arranged a special recognition at commencement for students who had tentatively been identified as eligible for Summa Cum Laude designation.”

  A few days before graduation she was presented with a gold honors cord to be worn over her gown and asked to lead the commencement procession.

  “The University hopes that this token of recognition for your outstanding academic performance will signify its pride in your accomplishment.”

  Kristin’s proud parents and husband were all there to see her graduate at SDSU’s 101st commencement ceremony, which was followed by a special prize-giving at the College of Sciences in the Cox Arena.

  The beautiful 22-year-old graduate shone in her black gown and gold cord, as she mounted the stage of the university’s white-and-pink Chemistry Sciences Laboratory to graduate in Chemistry (Biochemistry).

  At the exact moment Kristin was graduating, Dr. Robertson sent her an e-mail with the subject: “Rad Grad Chick.”

  “Dear Adrenalin,” he wrote, explaining that this was his new name for her, as, at just the thought of her, “my heart starts pounding, my blood rushing and my head spinning.”

  Bemoaning the fact that he couldn’t be at her graduation to cheer from the back row, he was cheering her on the inside and loving her “like crazy.”

  There is a bitter irony that at the moment of Kristin Rossum’s greatest academic triumph, she should start smoking crystal methamphetamine again. For soon after she began full-time as a toxicologist, Kristin started stealing a variety of drugs from the ME’s balance room, where they were stored before being disposed of by the sheriff’s office.

  Part of her job included logging into her computer illicit drugs found at death scenes, as well as the ones used as standards in toxicology analysis. She had full access to all areas where the drugs were stored and, during an eight-month period in 2000, Kristin took varying quantities of illegal methamphetamine and amphetamine that had been impounded at death scenes in no fewer than seven different cases. Later, a full audit of the lab would also reveal that numerous vials of professionally manufactured methamphetamine were missing.

  While Rossum worked at the ME’s office, security was lax. All drugs found by investigators at death scenes were routinely taken to the ME’s office, placed in brown envelopes, and then dropped in a locked bo
x in the investigators’ office. But when the box filled up, it was easy to pull the envelopes out of the slot.

  Eventually, when the drop box was full, it would be emptied and the evidence envelopes moved to the toxicology lab. There they were often left out on a desk or work bench, until they could be stored in a locked cabinet in a hallway. However, the key was kept in an unlocked desk drawer, easily accessible to all toxicologists.

  After stealing the methamphetamine, Rossum would smoke it in the comparative safety of the High-Pressure Liquid Chromatography (HPLC) room, which was only used by her. She knew that the strong smell would be dissipated by the vented machine, which removes fumes from chemicals being evaporated.

  Even Michael Robertson would later agree that the ME’s system for drug storage was woefully inadequate, but it would be another six months before he discovered how Kristin was fully exploiting the weaknesses to get high.

  Chapter 11

  Betrayal

  On Monday, June 5, 2000, Greg and Kristin celebrated their first wedding anniversary. That same day, Greg started a new job at Orbigen. True to his word, Dr. Gruenwald had hired him for his small start-up biotech company. He was appointed business development manager with a brief to acquire hot new technology. As part of his new job package, Greg was also given shares in the company to provide an added incentive.

  Greg was still convinced that everything was going well in the marriage, blissfully unaware that Kristin was in love with another man and planning to walk out. As they still had sex occasionally, Greg had no idea his wife was also sleeping with someone else.

  That night, Kristin prepared a special candle-lit dinner to celebrate their first year of marriage. But before leaving for work, she e-mailed Michael Robertson, telling him she loved him and couldn’t wait to see him Tuesday morning.